


Flares

by IceyGemini



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bilbo doesn't want to be separated from Thorin so he is going to find him, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Oakenshield Die, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Post-Battle of Five Armies, The One Ring is Bad News, The Silmarillion References, Valinor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:14:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26572774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceyGemini/pseuds/IceyGemini
Summary: The battle of five armies is over. It is time to mourn and honor the dead. But Bilbo doesn't want to accept that Thorin is gone, in the place he cannot follow. So, inspired by the famous tale of love and devotion which overcame even death and mortality, he decided to make another journey, the one which nobody made before, with the one exception...
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Comments: 18
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, well, this is actually my first (or maybe the second because I started to write this together with another one which Will be shorter but I somehow managed to finish the first part of this one first) fanfiction from the Hobbit fandom and I hope that I won't ruin it too much. Thanks again to all who encouraged me to try to write this  
> I'm bad at naming so I named this story after the song which lyrics I included into it....  
> I got the basic idea for this when I was thinking about all these afterlife reunion fanfics or fanfics where Bilbo is going to find Thorin in the Halls of Mahal which I read - and noticed that almost all of them take place after the LOTR events and I thought that it would be nice to see s fic where Bilbo decides to go find Thorin right after the battle instead of the years later....:)  
> Also sorry for all errors and mistakes, english is not my native languages. Feel free to me know what you think:)

> _Did you lose what won't return?_
> 
> _Did you love but never learn?_
> 
> _The fire's out but still it burns_
> 
> _And no one cares, there's no one there_

The Battle of the five armies, was over, the mangled bodies of the many fallen still covering the blood soaked wasteland and the ruins of the once famous city of Men while the hearts of many, be it dwarves or men or elves, were filled with bittersweet mix of triumph and great pain and loss.

The small group of dwarwes and one hobbit achieved what seemed impossible. They reclaimed their lost home, stollen from them many years ago by the fire and death comming from the sky in the form of raging dragon.

The great kingdom of Erebor was their again, but they had to pay the terrible price. Time for celebrations and recovery will come later. Now all of the survivors were gathered together in the ancient tombs of kings, their eyes glistening with tears sorrow and their souls filled with grief as they mourned their lost king and his young nephews, who fell in the battle. And together, they honored them and bid their last farewell to them as the three Sons of Durin were to be laid to rest alongside the ancient kings of dwarves, their ascentors, surrounded by their people and all their closest friends and companions. All except one...

The lonely figure of Bilbo Baggins was sitting quietly between the stone and dust and debris in front the still much destroyed massive remains of the front gate, still dressed in that ragged clothes he wore during the battle, his eyes still red and swollen though the last tears left them many hours ago, his distant look pointed somewhere behind the remains of the great statue in front of the massive Gate.

Of course he was invited to the funeral, but he politely declined. He was not ready to to face this. He was not ready to see Thorin like this, with his deadly pale face iluminated by soft glow of the candles surrounding him mixing with the otherwordly ethereal glowing of the Heart of the Mountain. He was not ready to see his proud and stubborn dwarven king being sealed into the stone, nor he was ready to hear all the speaches of glory and honor and heroic deeds of Thorin Oakenshield.

Because that would mean that it was real, that Thorin was really and definitely gone. He knew that he could not spend forever in this denial. His logical part of mind as a cruel whisperer was telling him that every paiful moment. The hobbit was right there, he saw Thorin fall, his chest pierced by the sharp blade of his nemesis. He was right there when the last breath left the dwarf's lips, pain and guilt and weight of what was left unsaid burning him from inside and tearing his heart apart. He couldn't let go, not even after Thorin's intense blue eyes become pale and cloudy after the last traces of life left them, not even after there was no more tears in his eyes to shed...

"You are not going anywhere...."

And that was how he was found by his dear dwarven friends, half frozen ang clinging to the fallen king like his firm grip could somehow anchor Thorin into the world of living... 

Bilbo felt the light touch on his shoulder which brought him back to reality and as the hobbit turned his head, he saw Balin looking at him with the calm saddness in his eyes as the old dwarf spoke quietly, talking about the great feast which will be going to be prepaired tonight, about songs to be sung and tales to be told, and about Thorin Oakenshield passing into legend ... Passing... 

"I know that's how you must honor him." the hobbit murmured quietly, avoiding his older friend's eyes

"But to me, he was never that." 

"He was...." 

"To me...."

"... he was..."

And the worlds got stuck in Bilbo's throat and the hobbit was unable to say them out loud, just like he was not able before. He had lost his chance and now he won't have another.

Why shouldn't he? Some rebelious part of his mind answered. Because the one you so long to say these worlds is gone beyond your reach, his body returned to stone and his soul in the Halls of his Maker, as you should know now. Yes, he could still remember some glimpses of his conversations with his friends and even their conversation between each other, as well as parts of the books he once read. He should just stop denying it and accept the truth. That Thorin was gone in the place where he coud not follow. Not in life, nor in death. Because that was something noone did before. Because it was impossible, Bilbo Baggins. 

Impossible?The voice in the back of the hobbit's mind whispered again. And how impossible it was for the thirteen dwarves and the hobbit to face the dragon and get away with it? It challenged. How Impossible it was for a hobbit who knew nothing about the big world to leave his warm and cozy home and run away into the wildreness with the group of dwarves haven't even knew before?! How imposible it was to... 

He stopped, eyes going wide open at the thought which crossed his mind just now. He noticed his hands were trembling and one single tear lurking the corner of his eye. Could he do it? Could he realy do it? 

Bilbo thought about his future. About how he would return to his homeland. About the shocked and surprised faces of the other hobbits ať the sight of him. He was gone so long that they would probably thought he will never come back. Maybe they would even consider him dead. It would be quite scandal when he suddenly show up before them, dressed in foreign clothes, both his appearence and behavior so faraway from the respectable propper hobbit he was once before. He could imagine the gosship running around the whole Shire the years after his return. The looks that lot of his neighbours gave him. Mad Baggins they probably would call him. But with time, things would go quiet and gosships would eased and he would go back to his previous life with a few more incredible stories to tell. Except that he couldn't. His life couldn't be the same because He was no longer the same. He thought about his future evening spent curled in his armchair in the silence which no longer brought him comfort. Forever in cold despite the heat of flames comming from his hearth. He thought about himself enjoying his afternoon tea while his eyes would be drawn to the empty chair beside his own, dreaming of what could be. Forever in silence despite the all the little sounds surounding him. He thought about planting that little acorn and then spending his sleep less nights next to it and wishing that it's magic origin could somehow make a miracle and bring him back what he had lost. He could not live like before. Not without Thorin... And Thorin was now go.... he could not even think about him that way. He was very far away. And would be forever if Bilbo haven't done nothing about it. But he could go. He could go to find him. Another adventure. Another journey. It would be a really long journey, far beyond anything he knew... But there was still the chance... Some voice in the back of his mind whispered... The foolish chance... But it was There... It.... alredy happened once....

And somehow, Bilbo remembered the ancient tale which he readed about when they stayed in Rivendell, poetic and tragic tale about the beautiful elven lady who fell in love with the mortal man and when he died she went into the place where no living being was meaned to enter, she descended into the Halls of Mandos, and her pledges moved the heart of the strict godly being so they had been given the second chance. The second chance... He to could have that too ... If it was done once ... It could be done again... But he has to make the journey that no mortal ever had made before... He already made the journey no hobbit had made before... He had to decide... 

Bilbo noticed Balin still watching him intently and so he spoke with the apologetic bitter half smile. 

"I think I'll quietly slip away. Tell others my goodbye."

"You can tell them yourself...."

When he was leaving the Kingdom under the Mountain alone after he bid farewell to all his remaining friends, it was in quiet walking, so unlike the reckless hasty start of his adventure, but with same stubborn kind of determination which lead him throuh the darkness of Goblin tunels full of nasty creatures, through inescapable elven dungeons, through lands so far away that no other hobbit dared to travel there, through dangers and perils, through fire of the dragon, through the freezing battlefield where the pain and death was everywhere.

No, he couldn't forget and nor could he let go. He will go and find him. He will find his way. Deep in his heart and soul, Long before he could admit it to even himself, the very same day he heard that quiet and stunning singining of the exiled king, he already made his decision. Whenever Thorin went, Bilbo would follow.

And if he had to cross the boundaries of life and death, step beyond the mortal world or riddle with gods, so be it. If the one elven lady from the times of old managed to persuade the most severe of the Valar to let her be reunited with the man she loved, why shouldn't he who riddled with the dragon have at least the same chance? 


	2. Chapter 2

Did you find it hard to breath? 

Did you cry so much that you could barely see? 

You're in darkness all alone? 

And no one cares, there is no one there

In the end, there was no such difference between his hasty leaving of the Bag End and his departure from the kingdom of Erebor, Bilbo realized shortly after he left the behind the city of Dale, which while still ruined, started to work on it s recovery already. Despite his lack of running this time, he again just rushed into the unknown world, without thinking about it not knowing what is waiting him there, but his whole being feeling drawn to something he could only find there. 

During the days, Bilbo s journey was mostly uneventful, blurry and even boring, so different from his previous adventure with the thirteen dwarves. Maybe it was because this time there was no dangers lurking in dark corners and behind the trees and threatening his life. Maybe it was because the wonders he saw were no longer new to him. And maybe it was because both dangers and wonders were now meaningless to him... 

During the nights, Bilbo was haunted by dreams.

At first, he was dreaming about what was... He dreamed about the unexpected visitor who was rude to him, calling him the grocer. He dreamed about the deep voice singing about the mountains, lost treasures and burning trees. He dreamed about the hand catching him when he was about to fall from the cliff while the thunders were roaring and and lightings were striking and giant rock were falling apart. He dreamed about the harsh scolding words which made his heart sink followed by warm strong embrace and the hope filling him. He dreamed about the intense blue eyes filled with derermination, desperation, greed, clarity, hurt, rage, madness, fear, regret... He dreamed about betrayal and forgiveness. About all these moments between him and Thorin. The good and the bad. 

And everytime he woke up, his arms gripped the cold metalic folds of his mithril shirt which Bilbo now never put down, because while he never developed the taste for shiny armors nor he was marching into war and still thought he looked like quite ridiculous, it was a reminder... The gift Thorin gave him... And Bilbo was clinging to it the way similar to when the drowning man will catch at a straw...

Later, he started dreaming about what could be...

He dreamed about the grand feast and celebrations, about the glorious ceremony as the all kingdom witnessed the coronation of the King Under the Mountain, about how stunning Thorin looked like when the crown was placed upon his head while Bilbo was watching from beside the throne where he stood together with Fili and Kili, he was dreaming about himself staying in Erebor and by Thorin's side for the rest of their days, helping him and his dear friends who he now called family and their people to rebuild their reclaimed home which became his home too. 

He dreamed the peaceful days in the Shire. About himself walking out of the kitchen with the kettle of warn and delicious smelling tea in one hand and the plate filled with freshly baked scones in the other, walking into the larger room where Thorin was welcomming with one of these rare smiles which slowly were becoming less rare as the heavy burdens which were laying on the dwarf's shoulders were lifted from him now, and as soon as the hobbit managed to put the scones and tea on the table, there was several loud and impatient knocking on the door and soon the cheerfull voices filled the room as Fili and Kili with the smile on their faces hurried to join them in this joyful ordinary afternoon...

And when these sweetly cruel dreams faded, the hobbit woke up with the smile of his face and tears in his eyes and the despration and longing in his heart. 

Sometimes, he was also dreaming about how it should be. He watched the procession of dwarves with their head bowed and their faces filled in grief and sorrow as they were aproaching the silent and unmoving figures lying on the three stony platforms, iluminated by the soft light of many small candles surrounding them. He watched Thorin's unnaturaly pale face free of pain, free of maddness, free of all burdens which once laid on the dwarf's shoulders, and he watched his own small body lying there, still dressed in that worn blue coat, by his king's side, curled against him inseparably. Bilbo's head was resting still on Thorin's shoulders, and their cold hands were eternally joined together with their fingers intertwined over the otherworldly glowing Heart of the Mountain... 

________________________________

When he was passing through Mirkwood stopped there for some rest and supplies, but he did not show himself to anyone, spending his whole time here in that strange hazy otherwordly world of mists and lurking shadows he always slipped in when putting on his Ring. So similar to the first time the hobbit visited the woodenrealm before, yet so very different.

Later in Rivendell, his visit took longer time, and though some part of him was considering to step out of shadows there, say greetings or ask for some advice, Bilbo chose not to. What he was about to do was not something he could reveal. He had a feeling that if he told what he was about to do, they would eighter try to stop him or at least talk him out of it. 

Look what have you done to me Thorin, here I am, acting almost like you, secretive, suspicious and almost as incredibly stubborn, Bilbo thought with the hint of on his lips and sadness in his eyes. 

He sneaked into the library during the night hours, reading and searching looking for any clues, ancient tales, anything which could help him on his journey. He was aware that his journey would have to happen differently then the one of Lúthien Tinúviel even if the their motives were pretty much the same. Bilbo was no beautiful immortal elven lady with the blood of Maiar in his veins and enchanting voice, but that didn't mean his heart was less. He will find his own way...

Despite how desprate he wished otherwise, the hobbit knew he would probably find there little to nothing about the Halls of Mahal, the place where he knew he must go, the place where dwarves who passed from this world were. The place where his dwarf... where Thorin was... Yes, Bilbo knew this, that was the something not to be kept in any elven library. The secret that was up to him to reveal on his own. And he will...

So Bilbo read again ancient legends and historical books and epic tales and also beautiful poems lord Elrond was keeping There. 

He read about Undying Lands, far away across the sea where Valar dwelled and where was no place for darkness. About the white shores beautiful and elegant elven cities. There were legends about the tallest of the mountains which peak touched the sky, about the most beautiful gardens on all Arda where even eternal beings could find peace and rest, about the wild forrests and great mountains which were the home of the Great Smith Aule, and Bilbo knew what his first step must be. He would have to cross the sea. 

_____________________________

The Grey Heavens were mostly quiet when Bilbo finally arived There, except of the crying of the seagulls flying over the glittering surface. It seemed that nobody was even here at least in this moment, yet the hobbit still stayed on guard and hidden, his hand in the pocket where he kept his magic ring, ready do disapear in the split of second. 

So, what now? the hethought to himself, watching seemingly endless mass of the water. Should he sneak onto one of seemingly empty ships and try to sail on his own? He certainly was not any experience sailor. 

After a while, he spotted the familiar tall figure of the red haired she elf not so far away from him watching the horizont, and hidden under the protection of his ring, he aproached closer. The elf- Tauriel was her name? - not noticed another presence. Bilbo could remember her, she arrived during the battle together with prince Legolas, waring them about the second army and the trap on the Ravenhill - the memory which was still haunting him. He briefly saw her on that freezing battlefield when he was desperately running to reach Thorin, not knowing yet it was already too late. He couldn't recall seeing her around after the battle, though, he admited, he didn't pay much attention to his surroundings back then in his all consumming grief. So ... there she was... Was she about to sailing? The hobbit decided to stay hidden. 

Tauriel was standing here until the sun began to sink over the horizont and the sky gained the colour of the spilled blood. Then, casting her last distant gaze to the shore, she moved towards the smaller, yet elegant ship. As carefuly and quietly as he could to not cause any sound or additional movements, Bilbo followed, slipping on the board just a few moments after her... 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At first, the hobbit was nervous and tense, not daring to even fall assleep in his strange ghostly world, worrying that she would soon discover him despite his constant invisibility, that she would notice the added weight or slight disbalance of the ship, that even if he stayed mostly still and keeping his breathing as quiet as he could, his presence in the end would not escape to the sharp senses of the former Mirkwood captain of guards. But as days after days passed and the aditional hobbit passenger still remained as hidden , Bilbo lowered his guard slightly.

His eyes were mostly focused on the endless masses of the water covered by the hazy veil of this unnatural mist surronding everything around him, waiting for the any sign of the distant white shores so poeticaly described in the books he had been reading and studying. From time to time, hobbit averted hiz gaze from the unchanging scenery before them to study his elven companion.

He spent only a few brief moments in her presence before, mostly just overhearing her talking with others, yet back then, he couldn't remember her so distant and detached, so … lifeless for the lack of the better words. Maybe the traumatic experiences from the battle, witnessing so much death and suffering, were too much for her, Bilbo thought. She barely went sleep, Bilbo used these rare ocasions for putting his ring off to at least for a few moments being able to escape from its blury and cold ghostly world. The longer time he spent like that, the less he liked it. Sometimes, after the whole day without rest, he felt dizzy, and something cold settle in his stomach, his ghostly world turned even more hazy as his eyes were constantly drawn to the magical jewell wrapped around his finger, like a moth to flame, like spiralling into the endless depths, threatening to be swollen up by abyss... but when he blinked a few times, this odd sense of vertigo and dread was gone.

He thought it were just some odd effects of his constant exhaustion and the fact that there was no solid ground under his feet, combined with his some aftereffects of this unnatural pale world he hid himself in. So the hobbit was grateful for the small moments of peace and clarity when he was able to briefly return back to the normal world.

Once, Bilbo caught her tossing and turning and mumbling in her sleep. Her normaly still and expressionless face was twisted with somehing which could be only described like the agony and grief. The now invisible again hobbit aproached and put his hand on her shoulderin attempt to comfort her. She calmed a little, but she did not wake. The Hobbit could not understand what she was mumbling in her restless sleep, yet something in her face and seemingly blank expression started to feel so terribly familiar, like this lifeless state of her was the mask, the wall hidding something Bilbo knew so very well, and when, in another of these moments of nightmares filled sleep he heard the familiar name falling from her lips with such a desperate tone, he knew. 

The following day Bilbo considered to show himself to her, to tell her. She would understand,he was absolutely sure about that. Yes, he should reveal himself to her. She deserved to know. Maybe, she could even help him. But all other thoughts were put aside as Bilbo suddenly gasped for breath. It was af if something sucked all air away from his lungs, followed by opressive feeling like an invisible force was pressing him against some invisible barier he could not make it through. The pressure grew stronger and stronger and then it was suddenly gone. The hobbit would be relieved, but still, something was off... He realized that he couldn't see anything, like everything was drowned in the thick mist. And, which was much worse, he could no longer feel the solid wood under his feet anymore, his body sinking into the wet coldness. In panic, Bilbo put the ring off his ring. Gone was the grieving red haired she elf, gone was the ship... Water....water was everywhere....! Everywhere around him. He started to kicking in desperate but mostly vain atempts to keep himself above the surface. Bilbo noticed omething small and glittering floating nearby him, slowly sinking into the abyss below....No! Without thinking, the hobbit reached his hand in a sudden fear and panic, completly forgotten his situation for a few moments, but realizing his mistake as soon as his fingers wrapped tightly around the familiar shape, his eyes burning, his vision blurry as the water swollowed him up and he was no longer able to reach the surface again, his clothes wet and heavy, pulling him underneath, he pulled out of his long coat and let it sink into the depths but it was not enough.... His lungs were burning with the growing need for air. Bilbo was fighting that instict making him to take a deep breath and let the salty water fill him... But he knew he wouldn't be able to much longer. His head was spinning. His vision darkening. Maybe he should give in. Maybe this was how it meaned be. He thought about Thorin. Maybe this was the only way how he will be able to see his king again. As the burning in his lungs grew almost unbearable and his vision darkened, Bilbo could see an white, winged sillouhete descending from above. It looked almost like an.. an eagle?The The last think that the hobbit remembered was the feeling of strong yel gentle talons, or were it fingers? and the face of an beautiful lady he had never seen before, yet looking somehow familiar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last of Bilbo's described dreams here was kinda inspired by the certain beautiful and bittersweet fanart I once found by randomly googling, I plan to once write a short oneshot based on this fanart but it somehow found it's way there too....


	3. Chapter 3

_But did you see the flares in the sky?_

_Were you blinded by the light?_

_Did you feel the smoke in your eyes?_

_Did you, did you?_

Bilbo was dreaming about the mountains unlike any he had seen in his life. He dreamed about great halls of stone somehow reminding him Erebor, yet grander and more majestic - was it even possible? - without the searing touch of dragonfire. It was full of life and voices and some of them painfuly sweetly familiar. He dreamed about a figure standing alone in the abandoned corridor and his heart would almost stopped at the sight of Thorin who was just a few steps away from the hobbit, his battle wounds gone, his clothes and armor free of blood, his face not that deadly pale, almost like he was alive, but something was off. There was pain and sorrow hidden behind the dwarf's intense blue eyes as Bilbo aproached closer, unseen like the ghost he now probably was. He saw Thorin's lips moving, he heard him whispering and he blinked at the sound of his own name falling from his dwarf's lips, followed by words he could not understand since he had not enough time to learn. Bilbo wanted to do and say so much. He wanted to yell and scold and then apologize, confess, whisper, yet the only thing that left his lips was Thorin's name and when he reached his hand towards the king, everything was fading. He desperately called out but no voice came out of his mouth.

He tried to run but he could not move. The world around him disappeared, mercilessly fading into white. The bright, overhelming white... The white was all around him and Bilbo was no longer dreaming. Was he dreaming at all? What happened? He was on the elven ship with Tauriel, secretly accompanying her across the sea... Bilbo remembered... yes... he was going to cross the sea into Valinor... to find Thorin ... but then both the ship and the elf were gone and he was... right... he was drowning ... he could remember the cold, watery abyss swallowing him whole... filling his lungs and chocking him as everything went dark... so... was he dead now? He could smell the salty air... feel wetness on his face... The dead could not feel these things anymore ... But he was... Was he alive then? " Where he was?

Bilbo slowly opened his eyes, as they adjusted to the all consumming brightness. He stood up and looked around, the features were familiar. He was on the ship. And in front of him, there stood two figures, wrapped in the intense light like some otherwordly divine beings from another world. One of them came closer towards Bilbo and the hobbit could see the beautiful elven woman in the white robe with long dark hair and somehow familiar features. As she came closer he remembered her face... the face of his savior... the last face he saw when he was sinking into his cold and salty grave at the bottom of the sea...

"You brought me here, right?" he asked and she sinply nodded. She was looking at him with the hint of wonder and curiousity but without any trace of hostility, like she was asking him silently how he even got where she found him, whenever it was. Well, he couldn't blame her for that, he was invisible almost the whole way. But the better question... where was he now? Right... the ship. So he was still on the sea. But something was telling him there was something else, something significant and there was the only way to figure it out... "Where was I? Where ... am I?" he finally asked. "Am I still in Middle Earth?" "Or..." he paused there, but only for a little moment, "or have I made it into Undying Lands?"

The elven lady was watching him more intently now and then she said : "You are neighter. You were neighter... Which is strange and unusual." Bilbo looked at her questioningly as she spoke further." " The place you were trying to reach lies beyond the mortal realm, it was put away from it ages ago. Noone except the First children can reach it without the favour of the Valar. No mortal should be able to get even this near like you did... " Bilbo's heart was racing at her words, his soul aching with anger and dissapointment and this stubborn determination. So he did not made it. But... he was near. He was near... but not enough... He couldn't accept not enough... He couldn't. " Then what I have to do to get there...? " he spoke without thinking, without hesitation, the image from his dream filling is mind. There was silence for a while.

" Why do you want to go there? What is driving you, malice? Greed? Curiousity? Or perhaps something else? " the calm voice spoke again, the look in the eyes of the elwish lady searching, intense, dissarming. Bilbo swallowed, suddenly unable to find his words, but then, for some reason, his barriers fell and he spoke, his words were quiet but firm.

" I want to find someone... Someone who left the world of living. I have to find him. I have to... because I... because... Because I can't live in the world without him..."

The elven lady smiled at his words with the knowing smile and took a few steps back, her features becomming blurry as she came back towards the other figure on the ship who was the source of that almost blinding light, putting her hand gently on his shoulder and whispering him quietly before he came closer, tall and elegant and ethereal, and the hobbit could not tell if he was a , an elf or man or something else entirely, though, it seemed almost impossible for him not to be something more divine. Bilbo could see the large sparkling jewell on his companion's forehead, the clear gem shining with it's own inner light, beautiful, radiant, alluring and somehow familiar to the hobbit who was realizing that he have already seen this kind of the otherwordly ethereal radiace wrapped in the simple form of the large crystal stone in it's slightly less bright form, and even if he once was told that there was nothing alike the King's jewell, the similarities were kinda striking.

Bilbo almost gapped. His mind could still recall some tales he was studying in the library of the Rivendell, including the fate of the three blessed and cursed jewells created ages before he first opened his eyes. One put into the sky, another thrown into the sea and the last one falling into the depths of earth, the earth where the Heart of the Mountain was found... And before his mind could wonder more at the implications, the person in front of him grabbed the jewell and put it off, reaching out his hand towards the stunned hobbit.

"Take it into your hands, young one," he heard the calm voice. Bilbo was warry, still remembering the events which followed after he laid his hands on the gem so alike this one. "You must hold it the while we will sail..." Hesitantly, Bilbo reached his hands.

"This way, you will be granted the passage to where any mortal being is not allowed without the favour of the Valar" the voice continued as the long, elegant hand dropped the sparkling jewell into the slightly shaking hands of the hobbit, who suddenly felt an intense urge to pull away, like there was something telling him to not touch, telling him it's cursed, telling him it'll burn his hands to ash... But Bilbo shook his head. He didn't even know where these dark and scarry thoughts came from and it felt so foreign, so unlike him. He could not hesitate. He somehow knew that despite the everything that happened in the past, he needed to take this chance. He was not sure what was about to happen, but one thing he was sure. He would do everything to see Thorin again. And if this was the only way how he would be able to reach him... he has to do it.

When he glowing brightness touched his skin, he could only felt the slight ensuring warmth in his hands. And he noticed that his own body was now glowing, sparkling with all shades of rainbow as the light emmited by the jewell reflected on his mithril shirt with such intensity that the hobbit averted his gaze.

He looked farther around himself for the first time, and now he could see the glimmering points of light around him, the stars shininging in various shapes and constellations, so close that the hobbit could reach and touch if he wanted, he could see the ethereal ocean of clouds like soft silver adorned waves around the ship, and he could see the whole world of Middle Earth deep under them, the lands and mountains, trees, waters, so distant and small, and he understood that the nature of this sea was completly different than the one that almost swallowed him.

"Tell us more about him," the elwish lady spoke again as she wrapped her arms around her partner when the ship started moving through the beautiful and haunting sea of sky.

"Our journey will take long. Tell us about the person who moved your heart to follow in the footsteps of my grandmother..." And so Bilbo did ...

 _Did_ _you_ _see_ _the_ _sparks_ _filled_ _with_ _hope_?

 _You_ _are_ _not_ _alone_

 _Cause_ _someone's_ _out_ _there_ ,

 _sending_ _out_ _flares_

That night, the eyes of all elves in Middle Earth could witness the their most beloved star Earendil shine so bright that the moon itself paled in the comparsion. And they didn't knew that what caused that wonderful sight was the ethereal burning brightness of the Silmaril reflecting and mingling with the soft silvery glow of shining mithril adorning the small body of the one simple hobbit who's sheer love and devotion to the certain king of dwarves led him beyond the mortal realm and brought him to travel across the stars.


End file.
